


Nowhere Else

by keeperofthefour, truth-be-told-im-lying (keeperofthefour)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Eventual Smut, F/M, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Polyamory, RFA Party (Mystic Messenger), Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Threesome - F/M/M, Will add tags as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:27:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29552109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeperofthefour/pseuds/keeperofthefour, https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeperofthefour/pseuds/truth-be-told-im-lying
Summary: This is my very first foray into multi-chapter fic writing. Set after Jihyun’s route when he goes away for two years to “find himself”, it’s the story of how Natalie finds herself navigating a new life in a new home, surrounded by the love and support of her beloved new friends. One of them- the rich, successful heir to C&R- has promised his best friend that he will watch over her and keep her safe. Jihyun writes to her, and a beautiful love between them begins to grow. But as she and Jumin spend more and more time together, feelings blossom, passions ignite, and they’re left with a decision to make once Jihyun finally finds his way home.
Relationships: Han Jumin/Main Character/V | Kim Jihyun, Han Jumin/V | Kim Jihyun, V | Kim Jihyun/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	1. The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for any input, comments, insight, or screaming you might want to contribute! Come say hi on tumblr if you want @truth-be-told-im-lying . I'd love to hear from you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natalie receives her first letter from V. Jumin reflects on his friendship with his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would LOVE to hear your thoughts so far! please feel free to comment!

Her first instinct after watching Jihyun’s plane leave the tarmac was to _ run _ . She wanted to run– fast and hard and endlessly– through the crowds of people, away from the insane events of the last few weeks she had lived, away from the overwhelming flood of emotion that threatened to bury her under its weight. Tremulous fingertips tapped against the window in front of her, impatient breath fogging over her line of sight so that the plane in the air looked blurry, dream-like, unreal. She wondered for a brief moment just what alternate universe she had entered and how on earth she could find her way home from here. 

_ Home _ was Jihyun’s house now. She’d finished boxing up the last of her belongings two nights previous and signed the lease cancellation papers on her old apartment. She spent the last two nights on his couch after they’d stayed awake until the wee hours, talking about what would happen when he was gone, approximately when he would return home, what she might do with herself in his absence, where he was going, and the  _ why  _ of it all. There was so much to take in, so much to consider, that she barely slept. And when she’d driven him to the airport and hugged him tight before he left, she suddenly felt small and alone– more so than she’d ever felt in her entire life. She felt as if she’d been thrown into this new world with these new people and this new way of life with nowhere left to go but further into the depths of their mysteries. 

The days were long at first. She wandered throughout the house, rearranging furniture, wiping dust away from darkened corners, hanging her own personal effects to make it feel more like home and less like she was crashing indefinitely at a friend’s house. She hung her clothes in the closet and made the bed with her old, familiar quilt. She cooked her meals for one and answered emails for the next RFA party and took long walks in the meadow and into the woods behind the house. She chatted occasionally with the rest of her new friends and even had coffee a few times with Jaehee to ease the stress of being alone. It still felt strange, though. Empty. Lonely. New and maybe just a little bit scary. 

Jumin called her often. At least a few times a week, her phone would ring at exactly 5:05 PM. She presumed it was when he left his office for the day, and pictured him sitting in the back of his car, legs crossed, leaning back against the leather interior behind his tinted windows, watching the city fly by as Driver Kim took him home. He never seemed to have a reason for his call beyond chatting idly about his day, about how much food Elizabeth ate on any given morning or which employees showed him exemplary work. 

“Jumin,” she asked one day while sitting on the back porch, twirling a dandelion stem between her thumb and forefinger, “why do you keep calling me?”

She heard him scoff, then pause for an uncomfortable beat. Color flooded to her cheeks and she laughed nervously, about to word her inquiry just a little differently when he spoke. “Because Jihyun asked me to. And– I suppose– because I worry about you.”

Head bowed to hide her tears from the empty meadow in front of her, she pressed her palm to her mouth to muffle a sob. “Really?” she whispered, her voice broken, incredulous. 

Jumin heard it. Her emotion, her uncertainty. “I know you only knew him a short time, but I have known Jihyun since we were young. He cares deeply for you, I have no doubt. But he needs time.” He sighed. In the silence that spread between them, she heard a car door and the faint, fading sounds of traffic. “I cannot say how much time exactly he requires, but please know that I’ll be here, should you need anything.”

“Did he ask you to watch after me?” she asked, breathless.

“Not expressly,” Jumin answered. “But as his friend, I feel I have a duty.”

“Jumin, that’s not necessary. I’m...I’m okay,” she lied. To him, to herself. She wasn’t okay, but she wanted to be. Somehow, she wanted to prove to Jumin that she could be alright on her own. Though she hadn't been part of the organization long, she felt the need to stand her ground, to assert her independence with them. 

Especially with Jumin. 

She wanted him to see how strong she was. To see that she could create a life for herself, a home for Jihyun to return to, a solid existence within the delicate infrastructure of the RFA and all of its members who she had grown to know and love and  _ understand _ in the weeks leading up to Jihyun's departure. These people had become more precious to her than anything else in her life so far, and she wanted them to admire her– for her strength, her persistence, for her gentle advice and listening ears and broad shoulders for them to place their burdens upon. The  _ last  _ thing she wanted was to be a burden for any of them. 

“If you insist,” he conceded. She heard the reluctance in his voice and knew she wasn’t fooling him. “But please don’t hesitate to reach out to me or anyone else, should you find yourself in need of anything.” He paused, then added. “Anything at all.”

\------

V’s first letter arrived on a stormy Saturday afternoon– two months and six days after his departure. Not that she’d been counting, marking out the days in increasingly impatient black marks on the calendar in the kitchen. She sprinted to the mailbox at the end of the driveway in a pouring rain as soon as the mail truck appeared, then stood– paralyzed at the sight of his impossibly disheveled handwriting– the delicate stationary stamped with multiple post office marks soaking up the torrential downpour she was frozen in. An unsettling clap of thunder rumbled at her feet and she ran back up the packed-down gravel, slamming the door behind her. A puddle formed on the floor at her feet as she tore open the letter with trembling hands and bated breath.

She sunk to the floor as she read, wet back sliding down along the door, her smile so wide and so genuine it hurt. He said he wasn’t sure when he would be home, that it seemed that things were going to take quite some time, but he promised to write. He promised to keep her informed of his whereabouts and if he would stay in any one place for any significant length of time. The plan was to travel, to cover as much ground as possible and find peace in as many corners of the globe as he could. _I have so much to learn...about myself. About others. About love and life and how to navigate it all,_ he wrote. He sounded fragile, unsure. 

Broken. 

After reading his letter no less than three times through– soaking up every last bit of him that she could– she stood and realized she was shivering cold, soaking wet. She laughed at her own ridiculous energy, at how impatient she had been for a word from him that she ended up completely shutting out any outside stimuli, hyper-focused on those flimsy sheets of stationery in her trembling hands. Outside, the thunder grew distant as the storm rolled through the valley, and the rain lulled into a gentle shower while she changed her clothes and set about making lunch.

The calendar got a gold star that day.

On Saturdays, Jumin had taken to calling her a little earlier than his customary, weekday time. Her phone rang just as she’d settled on the couch with a basket of laundry, a cup of coffee, and the newest episode of her current favorite TV series. 

“I received a letter from V today!” she proclaimed, tucking the phone under her chin so that both hands were free to fold clothes. 

“That’s wonderful,” Jumin said, calm and measured and even. There was something else in his voice that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, and as she shook the wrinkles out of the t-shirt in her hands, she cocked a half-smile.

“Is it?” 

“I beg your pardon?”

She huffed a laugh while her cheeks grew warm. “You don’t _sound_ happy.”

“I didn’t realize,” Jumin stated. His matter-of-factness bothered her. 

“Aren’t you glad to hear he’s okay?” Natalie asked, catching her bottom lip under her teeth– pondering, frustrated, confused. _Why was he acting so cold?_

Jumin’s counter was instant. “ _Is_ he okay, though? What did he write in his letter?”

Natalie’s jaw fell open, and she stammered a bit before she could form a reply. “Well, he– he’s safe at least _._ I mean, I guess I should take back the word _okay_ that I used,” she said. “Obviously if he was okay, he wouldn’t have left on this soul-searching mission, would he?”

Jumin’s silence on the other end spoke volumes about the way he was wrestling with V’s decision to leave. Because it wasn’t the first time he’d disappeared, and Jumin seemed to think that it wouldn’t be the last. “I have to go. Something’s come up. Goodbye, Natalie.”

And before she could react or respond in any way, Jumin disconnected the call, leaving Natalie bewildered, dumbfounded, _speechless._ She let her phone fall into her lap and stared at it for a moment, her head spinning. 

_What was that?_

By default, Natalie was passionate, exuberant, perhaps wearing a bit too much of her heart on her sleeve. Jumin– at least to her– felt stone cold sometimes, completely opposite of her warm, passionate demeanor. There were times when she just wanted him to _shout,_ to show her something other than his steadfast, stoic calm. The only time she’d seen him remotely upset had been just before V left. She had watched them both closely as the two men embraced. Though it had been brief, she saw Jumin’s eyes fill with tears just before he closed them and rested his chin on V’s shoulder, clapping his back with broad hands. Something in his eyes that looked an awful lot like pain made her chest ache, and she looked away, allowing the intimacy of their moment to remain private. 

The crumbs she had been able to gather about Jumin and V’s friendship barely satiated her appetite for understanding their dynamic. And now– with Jumin completely shutting her out– she felt as if they had been swept away, leaving her starving for information. The only other person she could think of that would have even the slightest idea of how their friendship worked was Saeyoung, but she wasn’t sure how forthcoming he would be with answers. 

She called him anyway, hoping he could lend some insight.

"Natalie! You must have felt me thinking about you. That's why you called, right? You _knew_ I wanted to hear your voice!"

She felt the building tension in her shoulders melt away at Saeyoung’s exuberant greeting, and she laughed, breathing a little easier. "You caught me. What can I say? I'm a sucker for it."

"Ha _ha!_ I knew it! My sixth sense is strong today. What can I do for you? Have you heard from V yet?" 

She could hear the quiet, incessant tap-tap-tapping of his computer keyboard and his somewhat rapid, excited breath. They had all talked about V in the chat a few days previous, and Saeyoung was just as anxious as everyone else to hear of his whereabouts. So she told him about the letter, then about her phone call with Jumin and his unusual reaction.

“That sounds like Jumin,” Saeyoung replied, continuing to type without missing a beat. “When it comes to V, he’s a closed book. Far from open. Totally shut, maybe even locked. Like...a secret diary or something.”

Natalie frowned. “They’ve been friends for a long time, yeah? So, they still keep secrets for each other?”

“It’s something like that, yeah. So many secrets, Natalie! How do you keep up with us all?” Saeyoung laughed; he keys stopped clicking and she heard his chair roll along the floor, then the pop and hiss of a can opening– she knew in an instant it was his beloved soda. “Honestly, I don’t know why you didn’t run for the hills after V left. It would have been so much easier on you.”

 _That_ made her angry. She stood and paced the length of her living room then, instantly exasperated and a little defensive. “I don’t abandon friends, Saeyoung.”

“You barely knew us. But you stuck around, despite all the insanity we drug you through. You cared for all of us. You– “

“I _care_ for you. Not past tense. Present,” she corrected him, her voice a quivering whisper. “And I will _continue_ to care for you– all of you– whether you like it or not. It’s been almost three months now. I’m committed,” she said, smug. 

He laughed again, and she realized just how much she loved that sound. In their first days together, Saeyoung’s laughter had always felt strained, forced. Then, in the days after Saeran’s disappearance and his subsequent mourning period, he shut down again. Only recently had Saeyoung begun to relax a bit; his genuine laughter was a welcome song. “If you say so.”

“Thanks anyway. I’m just gonna have to figure out a way to crack Jumin myself,” said Natalie, slowing her hurried pacing to a gentle stroll; she bent to peer out the window to find that the rain had stopped and the sun was just beginning to filter through the residual clouds. “I gotta go, Saeyoung. Talk to you later.”

“Yep! Call anytime, okay? Always willing to help my friends!”

~

In the midst of planning the next RFA party, Natalie also hosted a weeknight dinner, inspired by some words in V’s letter. _I hope you’re living your life well in my absence. Please don’t put anything on hold for my sake. Eat well, laugh often, and let those around you know that you care for them. If regrets exist that torment me more than others, it’s time lost with friends while I was waiting around for other circumstances to change,_ he expressed. She knew what the last line meant, who he implied waiting around for– and while the words stung a bit, she found truth in them and decided to enjoy what leisure time she still had.

Warm hugs, grateful hearts, a delicious meal, and copious laughter filled every corner of her house that night. After they had eaten and opened the second bottle of Jumin’s housewarming gift– a rich, sumptuous wine made from his family’s vineyard– Natalie found herself in need of a breath of fresh air. Quietly, she slipped out the back door, a glass of wine in hand; the cool night breeze was a balm on her ruddy cheeks, and she breathed in the fragrant summer night, closing her eyes as she leaned on the porch railing.

At first, she didn’t notice that Jumin had joined her. Lost in a daydream– wondering where V was, what he was doing, thinking, _feeling–_ she barely heard the click of the screen door. She felt his footsteps instead of hearing them, a gentle vibration under her bare feet as he approached.

“Thank you for dinner,” he said quietly.

She startled, and some of the wine in her glass sloshed out onto the ground; she embarrassed herself with a tipsy giggle while Jumin regarded her curiously, taking a sip of his own wine and looking every bit the perfect gentleman as he did so. “You scared me. I didn’t hear you come out.”

“My apologies then. I thought you must have heard the door, but it seems I was mistaken.”

She turned and leaned against the railing, facing him, half-cocked grin at the ready. “I’m glad you’re here. And I’m glad you enjoyed my cooking. I was worried it wouldn’t live up to your standards.”

And for the very first time, she watched Jumin’s face contort into something akin to embarrassment. A rush of breath left his lungs as he half scoffed, half sighed at her. His grey eyes widened and seemed to shine in the dim lantern light, and he lowered his glass. “I’m sorry,” he said, “if I’ve made you uncomfortable somehow. You seem very guarded toward me lately, and I’d like you to tell me if there’s something I’ve done to make you feel this way.”

“Jumin, I–” she began, unsure of what exactly to say, how to say it. She knew what she _wanted_ to say, but seeing as she already felt she was treading on thin ice with him, she held her tongue. “I think you and I should have a heart to heart. You’re V’s best friend, and I’m–”

“Jihyun.” He stared at her and took a step closer, the air suddenly heavy between them.

“Come again?” Natalie asked, tilting her head as if to study him from a different angle.

Jumin took another step toward her. “His name is Jihyun. Did he not share that with you before he left? Or perhaps in his letter?”

Another step brought him closer still, until they were standing close enough that she caught wind of his expensive cologne, of the wine on his breath. Natalie’s heart beat a little faster then, and she recoiled slightly, her free hand gripping the porch railing. “He didn’t,” she whispered, feeling an irrational jealousy toward Jumin.

“Jihyun Kim. We’ve known each other since we were eight years old. You know that much, at least. But when he decided to pursue photography, he wanted to make a name for himself. A pseudonym. Something aesthetic and with some hidden meaning, I suppose. I’ve never understood the artist types.” Jumin seemed almost dreamy now as he peered out into the endless blanket of stars in the sky. Some far away longing brought a hint of a smile to his lips, and Natalie watched– dumbstruck– as he seemed to drift away upon memories of his best friend.

“What do you think V means?” she asked softly, taking her turn to count the stars, to map out constellations while she waited for Jumin’s answer.

He hummed; thoughtful, pensive. “I thought about it for a long time. I considered words that could describe him: valiant, varied, virtuous...vulnerable. And then I decided that maybe he just chose a random letter for no particular reason at all.”

“Did you ever think to ask him?”

“No. I didn’t. Jihyun has reasons for everything he does. I may not always understand them, but I respect them.” He turned to her then and covered her hand with his. Cool, soft fingers curled around hers; she studied their point of contact, then looked up into Jumin’s eyes, searching for even a glimmer of emotion, and pleased when she found exactly what she was intent on discovering. “And I understand your desire to know him, Natalie. He needs someone like you. Someone with your passion, your perseverance.” Jumin paused, released her hand, and drank down the rest of his wine before taking a step away from her. “Promise me you’ll not give up on him, even if he frustrates you. Because I know he will. If there is one thing in this life I am certain of, it’s Jihyun’s _infuriating_ habit of making everything infinitely more complicated than needed.”

He retreated back into the house then, leaving Natalie alone with an entirely new set of information to process. As the evening wore on and she joined her guests again for one last drink, one last hug before they all departed, she and Jumin didn’t speak again until it was time to say goodbye. Instead, there were meaningful looks across the room while Zen ranted about his annoying co-star, while Yoosung and Saeyoung deliberated over their next online gaming marathon, and Jaehee prattled on about a new coffee blend she was excited to try. Jumin had softened toward her, if only a little. She was grateful for the breakthrough, thankful for more insight into the mysterious man who inexplicably held her heart in the palm of his hand.


	2. The Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natalie promises to wait for Jihyun while he travels the world on a journey of self discovery. In his absence, she moves into his house, bonds further with the other RFA members, forming a special bond with Jumin in particular. In this chapter, another letter arrives- this time with a return address- and the first fundraiser since Jihuyn’s departure is held.

_ Dear Natalie, _

_ I’ve settled into another place recently, and it’s one I think I’d like to stay for quite a while. You probably saw the return address on the envelope, so I’d like it if you could write back to me. That is...if you want to. I know how confusing all of this must be for you, but I want you to know that the feelings that I had for you before I left remain just as strong. I’m learning day by day that what I had with Rika wasn’t love after all, and while it’s been painful to realize, it has also been incredibly enlightening. _

_ For the first time in recent memory, I’m able to wake up and face the day without dread. I’ve been practicing yoga and meditation with each sunrise, feeling connected to the Earth- her pulse, her breath, her life. Sometimes I really do feel as if I transcend space and time and reach another level of consciousness. It’s beautiful and breathtaking, and I feel myself healing with each and every thought I release.  _

_ Thank you, Natalie. For taking care of my home. For being the catalyst for my awakening. I really think that if I hadn’t met you, I would have crumbled to pieces under the weight of my burdens. And I hate to think of what would have happened to my closest friends had you not possessed the presence of mind to keep me from self-destructing. I’m learning though, that it wasn’t just you. That I need to give myself some more credit for the things I’ve overcome. Or, I guess...the things I am overcoming. I can only hope that I will continue to grow stronger and more secure in the man I am becoming.  _

_ I think of you often, and I hope that you’ll write. I’d love to hear from you. What you’re doing with your time, how you’re settling into the house, how our friends are taking care of you. I wish you well, and I hope you think of me sometimes. _

_ Take care,  _

_ V _

~

Dear V,

I cannot believe it’s already been six months since you’ve gone. There have been days when the time seemed to drag painfully slowly, and it felt like you had forgotten about me, at least for a little while. I know that sounds selfish, but you have to understand what this is like from my perspective, too. I barely knew you before you were gone, and now I find myself pining for you– this mysterious, wonderful man that I know so little about, yet at the same time I feel as if I’ve known for my entire life. It’s pretty ridiculous, really...the way I feel about you. If someone had told me a year ago that I would find myself in this situation, I’d laugh in their face and tell them to go to hell. That I’d never move into some strange man’s house and keep watch over his affairs and become indirectly involved in cult activity and…

God, V. What a wild ride. I wonder sometimes just what it is that I’m doing. I remember wanting to run away after we dropped you off at the airport. I wanted to go back to my old life (sad and empty as it was) and settle back into my little apartment uptown and try to forget about all of you. But you especially. 

You. I just don’t understand why I feel the way I do about you. Even as I write, I hesitate to use the word that’s on the tip of my tongue and permeating my every thought because it just doesn’t make sense to me.

Here it goes, though. I love you. My head spins when I sit and ponder this feeling. I’m giddy and blushing and smiling like a fool. I love you I love you I love you. And now I’ve added to your baggage that you’re trying so hard to let go of and maybe I should wait and not send this letter first…

Well, I suppose if you’re reading it, I’ve bitten the proverbial bullet and mailed it, huh? If you choose not to write back, I’ll understand. It’s a lot.  _ I’m  _ a lot. 

Don’t worry too much about me, okay? I’m really doing well, considering how muddled my head is lately. Our friends (I can say that with confidence now) are wonderful and helpful, especially Jumin. I can see why you’ve leaned on him all these years. What a steadfast presence he is. I’m determined to get him to crack, though. I wonder how often you and he fell into reckless laughter together, how many bottles of wine you must have emptied and how many inside jokes you have. He doesn’t speak of you often anymore, but when I bring up your name, there’s something melancholy that passes through his eyes, and he’s silent for a long moment. Sometimes he’ll share a memory, sometimes he leaves the room. I can’t quite figure it out.

Anyway, I’m glad I have the opportunity to communicate with you now. It makes me feel closer since I’m able to share my thoughts. 

Write back soon, okay? I’m waiting not-so-patiently for your reply. But I’m trying…

Love,

Natalie

~

Thirty-five guests attended the RFA party the evening after Natalie sent her first letter to V. She met Jaehee later that morning after dropping the letter in the mailbox, and together they prepped C&R’s banquet hall, though not without the help of a dozen or so hired hands. Lights were strung, tables clothed in fine linens and set with bone china and exotic floral arrangements; Natalie and Jaehee served mostly as the coordinators, directing designers and caterers to their respective spaces and making sure everything was perfect– each pleat in every tablecloth, each flower petal fanned out just so. 

“Have you heard from V?” Jaehee asked as casually as she could as she fidgeted with a linen napkin. 

Natalie nodded. “I actually mailed him a letter this morning. He said he’s settling for the time being and gave me a return address, so I’m able to write back.” She turned the crystal flower vase in the center of the table, trying to decide which angle looked best. “I miss him more now than I did when he first left.”

Jaehee studied her friend’s face, nodding slowly. “That’s interesting. I suppose I thought you might grow more accustomed to not having him around, but I guess it’s the opposite for you.”

“I think it’s because he’s been writing to me. It makes me feel closer to him somehow, as if I can see him and really talk to him again, you know? And...there’s something intimate about the letters. He’s incredibly honest and real in them. More than I think he would have been if he’d stuck around.”

“So it’s true what they say?” Jaehee mused. “Absence really does make the heart grow fonder?”

Natalie responded with a smile just as her phone buzzed to life in the pocket of her jeans. And when she read Jumin’s name, white-hot panic coursed through her veins. Jumin always called at 5:05 exactly. The party was slated to start at 7:00. 

She had less than two hours to go home, get ready, and be back in time for the guests to arrive.

“Jumin, hi! How was your day?” 

“Not great. Without Assistant Kang here to oversee the general operations, things went a bit awry.” He sighed heavily. “However, I assume she has been useful to you regarding the party preparations.”

“ _ Jaehee _ ,” Natalie began, emphasizing her friend’s first name and not her work title, “has been a wonderful companion for me today. Thank you for giving her the day off. You should do it more often,” she added, winking at Jaehee, whose eyes went wide and cheeks flushed red.

“Are you still in the building?”

“Yeah, I just realized the time though. I really need to wrap up and get back home so I can freshen up and get dressed for the party. I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

“Very well. If I weren’t already in the car on my way home, I would offer you a ride. At this point, however, it would put us both behind schedule,” Jumin said. “Goodbye, then.”

Natalie sprang into action as soon as the call ended, apologizing to Jaehee for keeping her so late. 

“It’s okay! We both lost track of the time. Go home, though! Get yourself ready. This party is going to be wonderful– you have  _ nothing  _ to worry about,” she said, gesturing around the room with a broad sweep of her arm. “Everything looks beautiful.

Just over two hours later, guests mingled throughout the hall, sipping champagne, sampling hors d'oeuvres, and chattering among themselves. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement and anticipation– the last party had been a huge success and many of the guests invited this time had come as recommendations from previous attendees. 

After mingling politely with a few of the larger donors, Natalie found herself alone for a moment and retreated to a quiet spot near the end of the bar. Drink in hand, she slid onto the leather stool and crossed her legs, rolling her neck to ease some of the tension gathered there. She caught Zen’s eye from across the room and raised her hand in a polite wave, and he winked in response, politely excusing himself from the conversation he participated in before heading her way. 

“This is amazing,” he said, sliding onto the stool next to her. “You really outdid yourself with this one.”

She beamed, then lowered her head, feeling unworthy of the praise. “Really? You’re not just saying that, are you?”

Zen scoffed. “Are you kidding me? This tops every other party I’ve ever been to. I mean, Rika was good, but you’re  _ good.  _ I think–”

“Rika’s parties were wonderful in their own way.” Jumin approached from behind Zen, who rolled his eyes. “Natalie’s parties have a different kind of warmth, that’s all. Opposing personalities produce opposing results.”

Zen appeared angry at Jumin’s observation, though this was nothing new to any of them. “They’re not mortal enemies, man.”

“I never said they were.”

“Yeah, but when you say it like that–” Zen lowered his voice to imitate Jumin, thumbing the lapel of his coat for emphasis, “‘opposing personalities, blah blah blah’ sound like they’re battling it out for best party planner or something.”

Jumin sighed, taking a long drink of his wine before speaking again. “Anyway. What I mean to say is that it’s a lovely party, Natalie. Your decor is charming, the atmosphere is comfortable and welcoming, and the food is top-notch.”

“Yeah, it’s really something,” Zen agreed, scanning the room. His face suddenly lit up when he saw someone he recognized, and he excused himself, leaning in to kiss Natalie’s cheek. “I’ll see you later. There’s someone I need to say hi to.”

“Sure thing, Zen,” she said.

Jumin stayed and took Zen’s seat; his shoulders remained rigid, his posture perfect. He turned to look at Natalie– his expression unreadable– then looked away, swirling the wine left in his glass. “You look radiant tonight.”

His voice was so low and blended so well with the din of the party around them that she almost had to ask him to repeat himself. It took her a moment to realize he’d paid her a compliment, and she blushed, smoothing her hand down over the dress she’d spent weeks agonizing over. The fact that it met Jumin’s approval meant a lot to her. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure about the dress, but I guess it works.”

“It’s not just the dress,” he said, drawing his words out, carefully considering each one as he spoke them. “It’s your presence. You...put people at ease. You’re charming and genuine, and it shines through in everything you touch, in every detail you plan.”

She was speechless, and stammered for a moment to find the right words to convey her gratitude. “I- uh- yeah. Haha. Thanks, Jumin. That means a lot coming from you. More than you might know.”

“Really? Why is that?”

She smiled at him, then took a drink before answering. “Because...because I know how important these parties are to you. Of course, to everyone else– the RFA as a whole– but especially to you, especially in V’s absence. You feel like you have to keep things afloat until he gets back, and I get that. I’m glad I can step in and help.”

“Are you taking care of yourself?” he asked idly, searching her face for some sign of fatigue, of worry. “You seem a little preoccupied lately. You know I’m here if you need someone to lean on.”

Perhaps it was the wine. Maybe the festive, cozy atmosphere. The company they found themselves in– friends for just a few months, but so, so very close nonetheless. But Jumin’s closeness gave her pause. Made her heart jump a little when he offered a shoulder to lean on. The daily phone calls, his stoic presence at the monthly dinner parties she’d been holding, his habit of always being there but always keeping a safe distance as if keeping a watchful, protective eye on them all.

Is this what Jihyun would do if he were here? Would he and Jumin hang back together, quietly watching and discussing the dynamics of the group, worrying over whether or not Yoosung was failing his classes or Jaehee was feeling overwhelmed and overworked? Talking about a way to get Saeyoung out of the agency and into a less dangerous line of work? Cheering Zen from the sidelines and pulling strings behind the scenes to get him the next big role?

“Natalie?” Jumin’s voice was startlingly close now. It stirred the wisp of hair that had fallen from her updo; she smelled him, she felt his breath on her cheek, and when she turned to look at him, he was so, so close. He raised a hand between them, almost as if he wanted to touch her, but hesitated; some internal conflict flashed through his grey eyes, and he moved away. “You were lost in thought. I called to you twice, but you wouldn’t answer. Are you alright now?”

She held his gaze and nodded slowly, lips slightly parted, his scent still lingering around her, making it hard to breathe. She swallowed against what felt like her heart in her throat. “I’m okay.”

“Dance with me.” It wasn’t a question. He offered a hand that she couldn’t imagine refusing, noticing the slight tremor in his fingers when she curled her own around them. The live music had been playing for some time now, though Natalie hadn’t really given it much thought until now. Jumin led her to the dance floor and led her in a confident waltz, one broad hand clasped at her waist, the other folded with hers between them. 

_ He’s my friend,  _ she told herself as her heart accelerated– though from the dance or his closeness, she couldn’t tell. His hands were supportive and slightly cool to the touch.  _ He’s my friend, and V’s friend. That’s all. There’s nothing more to it. _

But he pulled her closer still until there was no space between their bodies and the musicians slowed the brisk waltz to a slower ballad. 

“Thank you for all that you’ve done for us,” Jumin said, his breath on her ear as he leaned in close. She felt on fire from her head to her toes, and her breath caught; she felt like she was falling, but Jumin was there to keep her upright. “I don’t know what might have become of us without you.”

“I’ve only done what I thought I should,” she whispered, staring at his neck, watching the way the skin reddened where her voice tickled. “I think a lot of you. Of– of all of you.”  _ Especially V. I wish he was here, too. To share this success. To see the fruits of our labors. _

“The feeling is mutual,” Jumin assured her as the song ended. For one, dreamlike moment, their eyes met. Jumin opened his mouth again to say something, and Natalie bowed away gracefully before she could make a complete fool of herself. 

“Thanks for the dance!” she exclaimed, too loud, too brusque. She needed to put as much distance between herself and Jumin as possible before her heart exploded and she did something reckless. “I just remembered that I need to ask Jaehee if she paid the caterers.”

Jumin watched her scurry away, his head swimming with some feeling he couldn’t quite grasp. He was distracted soon enough by one of the guests who wanted to talk business, but for the rest of the evening, his mind drifted back to Natalie. To their conversation, their dance, her rose-scented hair and the way her body felt in such close proximity to his own.

And he thought of his friend. Thousands of miles away in some remote, undisclosed place, pining for this very same woman who had haunted his dreams since her very first day in the RFA chat. He had to tell her. 

But when? 


	3. Chapter 3

_ Dear Natalie, _

_ Seeing those three little words written in your beautiful handwriting did a number on my heart. Your letter was a lot for me to take in, if I’m to be perfectly honest with you. It’s something I’ve really been focusing on lately– honesty. Being honest with myself and with everyone around me. Not saying what I think people want to hear just to appease them or to smooth a situation over.  _

_ I don’t want this to sound harsh, dear Natalie, but I’m in one of those very situations now. While I want to say that I love you, to return your sentiment with the same enthusiasm you showered me with, I just can’t say it yet. It’s painful for me to even write these words, and the longer I sit here the more I want to just tear up this paper and start over and give you the validation you’re seeking. But that’s not fair to me...and definitely not fair to you.  _

_ I want to say it someday. And I believe I will. Face to face, waiting for your reaction. Once I am home and we can explore what’s happening between us to the fullest extent. I want it to be sincere and true in every sense of the words when I say it to you.  _

_ I’m not going to write much more at this point because I’m not sure what else to say. I’ll await your reply before moving on again so that I know where you stand. I’m sorry, Natalie. I feel as if I’ve let you down somehow. _

_ Take care. _

_ V _

The rain that year broke records. Another letter delivered in a downpour, this time in the middle of a cold, dreary November. The weather certainly matched the tone of V’s letter and the somber heartbreak Natalie felt as she tried in vain to process what she was supposed to do.

He said he'd wait for her to respond, but for how long? He couldn't possibly wait forever. At some point, he would grow restless and need to move on. She didn't want to hold him up, but she really couldn't think of anything to say to him just yet that wouldn’t crack the already fragile foundation they’d been building.

For a week, she pondered. Relatively alone, save from the company of her coworkers, she cried in private. She sulked around her house, bundled under blankets, neglecting the dishes, her laundry, the day to day upkeep of chores. She avoided the routine calls from Jumin because she didn’t want to admit he had been right about V making everything  _ infinitely more complicated than needed.  _ At the same time, she longed to talk to Jumin, to make sense out of the letter she’d received. 

Snow flurries swirled in the air the night Jumin showed up on her doorstep. She’d just finished practicing the piano and was heading to the kitchen to make a cup of tea before bed when she heard his knock at her door. Important, demanding, authoritative. She knew after three raps who it was and sighed heavily, rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her palms.

Natalie opened the door just enough to poke her head out. She didn’t smile, didn’t offer Jumin any sort of consolation beyond her brows raised in a silent question. 

She wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“May I come in?” he asked, studying her face, the darkness under her eyes, the lines around her mouth indicating how deeply she’d been frowning lately. 

She sighed again– heavy, defeated– and closed her eyes. “Jumin, I’m tired. I’m really not in the mood for company right now.” 

“You haven’t been in the mood for company for eight days now. I’m concerned.” He adjusted the cashmere scarf at his neck; the wind tousled his hair, brought a pink flush to his cheeks and the tip of his nose. He took in a sharp breath and looked away, focusing on how the snow seemed to sparkle in the lamplight that illuminated her porch in a soft, yellow glow. “I don’t wish to intrude, but I want you to know that I’m here and willing to listen. That is, when you’re ready to talk.”

He didn’t move away, nor did he look back at her for a reaction. Jumin merely stood, anticipating her invitation to allow him inside.

Inside her home. 

Inside her mind.

Shoulders slumped, she swung the door wide and held out her arm. “Come in, then.”

Jumin’s head jerked upward, grey eyes wide, searching. “Are you sure?”

“Nope. But it’s cold, and I know you. You’ll stand there until you’re an icicle, worrying yourself sick.” She laughed in spite of herself. “Get in here. I think I have a bottle of wine left over from the last dinner we had.”

“Thank you.” He brushed past her, and the cold that clung to his wool coat smelled like winter and something comforting and familiar to Natalie– a touch of home that made her want to bury her face in the lapel and hide from the world for a little while. 

Jumin sat stiffly in one of her spindly, wooden kitchen chairs while she dug through a couple of drawers for a corkscrew to open the wine. Shoulders squared, he watched her with curiosity, wondering to himself why she couldn’t be bothered to organize her things more efficiently. “Where did I put it…” she muttered, more to herself than to her guest, rummaging around with more purpose each passing second. “I know it’s gotta be here…”

Jumin approached and pulled open one of the drawers she’d already pawed through and plucked a corkscrew from the top of the pile inside. He cleared his throat and could barely contain a smug grin when she turned around, jaw open, hands on her hips. She scoffed and swiped for it, but he held it above his head, just out of reach. An almost flirty gesture, if she didn’t know any better. 

“How did you do that?” she laughed. “You saw it and didn’t say anything, didn’t you?”

“You were looking too quickly,” he said. “There’s no way you could have seen it with how fast you were sorting through all those things. Why don’t you keep them organized a little better?” He set to work on opening the wine while she leaned against the counter and watched, wondering how many bottles he’d opened over the years. 

“I don’t have time to organize,” she whined. “There’s music to make, parties to coordinate…” She trailed off, thinking of all the  _ nothing _ she’d been doing for the last week or so. “Letters to ponder…”

Jumin nodded as he poured them both a glass and handed one over to Natalie. “I thought as much.”

“Have you heard from him?” she asked, stepping toward the living room. Jumin followed, and they settled on her couch together, each of them at opposite ends; Natalie stretched her legs out so that her toes rested against his thigh. 

“I haven’t. But I’m not surprised. I’m not his focus at this time.” He paused, as Jumin always did, considering her words and his subsequent reply. “May I ask what he wrote? Does it have anything to do with why you’ve been avoiding your friends lately?”  _ It hurts,  _ he wanted to say. Instead, he waited for her reply. 

She pulled the letter from the back pocket of her jeans and offered it to him. “You can read it. You tell me.”

She sipped her wine while he read– then re-read– V’s thin, uncertain script, searching for some kind of meaning in the twitch of his jaw, the subtle quirk of his brow, the bob of his Adam’s apple. “Well?”

“I told you, didn’t I?” he said, folding the letter and handing it back to Natalie. “He’s complicated things. But to be fair, you must have, too.”

“I was being  _ honest  _ with him! I  _ do  _ love him, Jumin! And I guess I thought by admitting it to him that we could explore that feeling together, but instead? Instead- it feels like I’ve been broken up with now, and we’re not even  _ in _ a relationship!” She took a deep breath and cursed under her breath, blinking away the tears that burned in her eyes and blurred her vision. “I’m an  _ idiot.  _ And I feel so  _ selfish  _ for saying it to him now. Here he is,” she cried, gesturing with her arm, “on this epic journey of self-discovery, and I just go and drop the love bomb on him, like, ‘Oh, okay! Yeah, let’s see what happens if I do  _ this!’”  _ A choked sob escaped her throat and she stuck her hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Jumin. I’ve been holding this all in,” she whispered. “What am I supposed to do? How do I respond?”

“First of all,” he began, shifting so that he faced her more fully, resting his arm against the back of the couch, “you aren’t an idiot. You’re most certainly not selfish. I’ll be perfectly frank: though I know Jihyun almost as well as I know myself, I’m also puzzled about why this trip seems to be taking so long. How lost can one man possibly be?” He paused to take a drink, slow and thoughtful. “Secondly, I’ll ask you the questions you’ve asked me in a different way. What would you like to do? How– if at all– would you like to respond to him?”

She bounced her knees– a nervous habit– toes tapping against his leg. And though it didn’t bother him terribly, he pressed his hand against the top of her feet to still her. She looked at him and laughed softly through her grief, her pain, her uncertainty, and she let her head fall against the back of the couch. “Jumin...why do you always ask the hard questions?”

“Because those are the ones that deserve the most thoughtful answers,” he stated simply. “You like to walk and think, yes? Let’s go outside.”

“It’s dark and snowing!”

“You have a coat.” He stood and offered his hand. “Come on.”

“You’re being impulsive!”

“I’m being reasonable. You’re being stubborn by resisting my invitation. Get up, get your coat. You’ll feel tremendously more at ease.” 

The cold night air brought a renewed sense of perspective. Crisp and refreshing to the heaviness in her lungs, she stood in the dormant meadow grass, watching wisps of clouds pass through the stars in the indigo sky. Half a moon hung there, too, and it made her nostalgic for some moment she’d not yet lived; some winter night in her future, in the arms of someone who loved her in the same way she loved him.

“I want...I want to tell him to fuck off,” she said, setting foot down the hill. Slowly, thoughtfully, she took another deep breath and exhaled slowly. Jumin stayed near but lagged behind, hands resting in the pockets of his coat, enraptured with the whip of her long hair when the wind stirred it from her shoulders. “I want to tell him to give me back my heart, to give me back the words I wrote, so–” She stopped, then shook her head. “Nevermind.”

Jumin walked so that he was facing her and bent to peer into her eyes, lifting her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Not ‘nevermind’. Tell me. You’re obviously frustrated.”

She pushed away tears with the heel of her palm and sniffled, watching the white puff of her breath dissipate into the space between them. “I want...I need him to know what  _ I’m  _ feeling. I need him to know that...while it’s reckless and dumb and irrational, that I  _ do  _ love him, and I’m not going to wait around for him if he can’t offer me that same sentiment!” 

And without a second thought, she embraced Jumin, crushing her face against his coat like she’d wanted to earlier when he first showed up. He stiffened at first, then folded his arms around her, pressing his nose into the crown of her head. 

She smelled like chamomile and lavender, and for a brief moment Jumin’s head swam. While it wasn’t uncomfortable for him, it prompted him to tighten his arms around her frame and pull her just a little bit closer to him. Natalie felt the urgency in his embrace and grasped at the lapels of his coat with a gasp, turning her face to catch a breath. 

“I think you would be wise to write back to him as soon as possible, so that you don’t sit and stew on the right things to say,” Jumin said quietly, smoothing her hair away from her forehead, his brow furrowed with some quiet confusion that he was battling from within. He’d been close to her so many times before, but not like this. Never like this. It had always been in a public setting or among their close friends. Never alone. Never in such an intimate setting.

“Am I being irrational?” she asked, muffled behind her scarf now. 

Jumin shook his head, still holding her tight against him. “No.”

She met his eyes again– her own red-rimmed and glistening with tears and starlight– and touched his cheek. She smiled at first, but when Jumin’s intensity registered, she faltered. “Jumin?”

He seemed to hesitate, to be painstakingly choosing his words one at a time. Natalie could almost see the thoughts forming and waited with bated breath for him to speak. “I think...you need to write to him. Tomorrow. Send it as soon as possible and wait for his reply.” His voice was low, thoughtful, contemplative. There was also some raw emotion that she could  _ feel _ in the way his breath warmed her cheeks. “Because you deserve to know where he stands...and...make a decision about how you’ll proceed once you receive his answer.”

Jumin’s kiss didn’t register right away. She’d been weighing his response, writing a letter already in her mind’s eye with how exactly she would confront V when Jumin stole her breath, her heartbeat, her every thought and took them all upon himself. Cold lips that tasted of wine and unspoken desire slipped so easily against her own; she grasped at the back of his coat and parted her mouth and Jumin responded with the same eagerness, his tongue finding her own easily, eliciting a quiet groan before she tore herself away.

“What…? What are we doing?” she cried, stepping backwards away from him and toward the house. To say she hadn’t thought about this more than once would be a terrible lie, but in the spirit of waiting for V, she wouldn’t allow herself to entertain the idea of letting anyone else into her heart. 

Especially not Jumin.

“We can’t do this.” Her tears were falling again, but  _ oh,  _ her body felt alive; she was soaring, weightless, somewhere above the meadow in the vast expanse of sky above them. She knew he felt it, too. 

“Write to him,” Jumin repeated for the third time that night, pushing his hands back into his pockets with a shrug. “Tell him where you stand. I’ll wait with you for his response, and…” He looked toward her house, thoughtful. “When he writes back, you can re-evaluate. Until then, Natalie...I’ll wait, too.” 

She walked him to his car in silence, both of them focused on the ground, their feet and how they stayed in sync during their slow stroll. The snow flurries had all but disappeared by then and the temperature had dropped further; a thin layer of frost blanketed Jumin’s car and gilttered in the moonlight as they approached. 

“I won’t call you,” he said. “I’m sorry if I overstepped tonight. I know I’ve only managed to make you feel more complicated. I would wish, however, that you stop shutting me out. Well, me and the rest of our friends. We’re here for you.” He reached out to touch her cheek and she grabbed his hand, pulling his palm to her lips to kiss him again. “Don’t shut us out, Natalie.”

She nodded and let go, pulling her scarf around her face to block out the sudden gust of wind that whipped around them. “I won’t. Well...I’ll try not to,” she said with a wink. “Goodnight, Jumin.”

“Try your very best,” he said, then opened the door to his car. “Goodnight to you, Natalie. Get some rest.”

_ That  _ made her laugh. Loud and free and clear as a bell. “Rest? Sure. Right after I do a few laps around the house and scream externally instead of the internal screeching I’ve been doing since…” she blushed, thinking once more of the kiss.

His blush was faint, but she noticed it and grinned, satisfied with the knowledge that he, too, was flustered. 

“I’ll leave you to it.”


End file.
